


Sanity in Your Arms

by noisey_burlesque_peach



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Body Worship, Bottom Martin Blackwood, Elias is a manipulative little shit, Elias is actually really sweet when he's not killing anyone, Light Angst, M/M, Mind Manipulation, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Oral Sex, Season/Series 03, Service Top Elias Bouchard, Smut, Top Elias Bouchard, or so martin thinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noisey_burlesque_peach/pseuds/noisey_burlesque_peach
Summary: "Martin hated crying, he hated feeling vulnerable, but at this point he couldn’t help it."OrMartin Blackwood is broken. Sasha is dead, Tim's gone mad, he didn't even want Melanie there, and Jon, a potential murderer and the man he's in  love with is missing. Elias seems like the only sane one around, so really, who can blame him for turning to his gorgeous, charming, and very present boss?Potential trigger warning for non-con, nothing graphic, but Elias is definitely using his mind manipulation to get Martin in the mood.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Elias Bouchard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Sanity in Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Also If anyone is interested in seeing the Pinterest board I made for Elias's outfit, I'll put the link [here](https://pin.it/4JHYZ7M)
> 
> (It took me 15 minutes to figure out how to put a link into a note so please appreciate it)

Martin hated crying, he hated feeling vulnerable, but at this point he couldn’t help it. The statement he had just read was more than he could handle. A new mother had lost her baby to a monster. It was the worst thing he could imagine.

He had clicked the tape recorder off, of course, but as was the nature of the archives, it had clicked back on of its own accord. 

As it turned out, the statement was merely a catalyst for his tears. As he cried new and old feelings bubbled up. He missed Jon and worried about him. He was saddened by Sasha’s death and Tim’s isolation. He was just so overwhelmed. 

It was late, Melanie and Tim had already gone home, so he didn’t expect anyone to walk in on him. Perhaps that was why he allowed his sobs to continue. That was, until a creaking floorboard caught his attention. 

“Martin?” Elias asked softly.

“Oh, um, sorry, I’m sorry boss I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Martin said, immediately straightening up and wiping the tears from his face. 

“Don’t apologize. What’s wrong?” Elias asked, sitting in the chair next to him.

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry-“

“Martin,” Elias interrupted firmly. He looked into Martin’s teary eyes, willing him to open up. 

“I just read a really horrible statement,” he sobbed “and it made me think about how much pain and terror is in the world.”

“Oh Martin,” Elias wrapped his arms around the younger man, allowing him to bury his face in Elias’s perfectly ironed dress shirt. For a second, Martin felt guilty for getting tears on it, but Elias’s hand gently stroking his hair reassured him that it was alright. 

“I’m sorry Elias, I think I’m just over tired. That’s all.”

“Why don’t we get you home then yeah?” Martin nodded and allowed Elias to lead him out of the archives and into his car. In the back of his mind Martin had the fleeting thought that going home with Elias meant he’d have to take a taxi into work the next day, as his car would still be in the parking lot of the institute, but he really didn’t feel like driving tonight. 

Martin must’ve been over tired after all as he drifted off before Elias had even pulled out of the parking lot.

He woke a while later to the car shutting off. He blinked a few times, looking out the window, not recognizing the street around them. 

“Um, where are we?” he asked, sleep still very present in his voice. 

“We’re at my place,” Elias said, “I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.” He was right of course. The last place Martin wanted to be was alone in his flat. He was already so emotionally exhausted that he knew he wouldn’t have the strength in him to chase away the nightmares of Jane Prentiss tonight. 

“You don’t have to do this Elias,” he said, despite wanting him to, “I’ll be alright.” 

“I’m sure you will be, but just because you can do this alone doesn’t mean you should have to,” Elias said. He rounded the car to open Martin’s door, linking their arms together and helping him out. 

The lobby of Elias’s apartment building was gorgeous. The floor was a striking white and gold marble that matched the gold of the walls. There were two huge, red velvet lined staircases that curved up to the bar. It was honestly closer to a hotel than an apartment building. The elevator was patterned with the same gold as the lobby, and it was easily the largest elevator Martin had ever seen. It had its own attendant and everything. 

“Evening Mr. Bouchard,” The attendant said, pressing the button for the third floor without having to be asked. 

“Good evening Frederick,” Elias replied politely. 

“I see you have company,” Frederick said, turning his attention now to Martin. 

“Yes, this is my colleague, Mr. Blackwood. He’s here to help me with some work related business.” Elias replied. Martin could tell that Frederick wasn’t buying it. Martin looked incredibly out of place in his well worn jeans and trainers, his face and eyes were red from crying, and his hair was all mussed up. If he were Frederick, he would assume that Martin was a very disheveled call boy. 

“Well, have a good night you two,” Frederick said as the elevator came to a stop at their floor and Elias led Martin off by his arm. 

“He’s rather nosey tonight,” Elias muttered to himself when Frederick was out of earshot, “though, I rarely have guests, so I can’t really blame him.” 

“Is it uncommon to not have company?” Martin asked. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a guest in his apartment. Well, an invited guest.

“In this building it is. Full of wealthy, aging socialites, all trying to relive their glory days. It’s a Friday night, so I reckon there’s at least five parties going on right now, and probably an orgy or two.”

Martin blushed. Elias’s apartment was at the very end of the hall, giving Martin ample opportunity to trip over his own feet. 

“My my, you are a clumsy thing, aren’t you?” Elias asked, the fondness evident in his voice. For the first time that night, Martin wondered if Elias had some sort of ulterior motive for taking him home, and if he did, would Martin be up for it? He had never really thought of Elias in that way, in fact he was quite infatuated with Jon, but Basira had told him that Georgie told her that Jon “didn’t”. It took Martin a second to understand what she meant, but when he did, it made sense. John had only had one partner that Martin knew of and he and Georgie had broken up long ago. And if Martin was being truly honest with himself, it wouldn’t hurt to relieve some tension. 

The door to Elias’s apartment was plain white and devoid of any decorations asie from a gilded eye that was fixed around the peephole. That seemed on the nose for Elias as it matched the single earring that hung from his ear and the emblems sewn into most of his clothing. In fact, the trousers he was wearing now were covered in a golden eye pattern. If Martin was in better spirits, he might have asked about it. 

Elias flicked on the lights as they stepped into the apartment. The entire place blinked to life. The furnishings of the apartment all matched Elias’s overall aesthetic. The chairs and sofa were plush titanium white and completely spotless. 

Elias shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his boots, gesturing for Martin to do the same. He followed suit, lining his trainors up next to Elias’s. His faded pink shoes looked out of place in this home. So did his well worn denim jacket. So did he. Everything about Elias screamed elegance, and Martin doubted that he had ever done an elegant thing in his life.

Martin was hesitant to sit on the pristine sofa, worried he'd spill something, even without anything to spill. Elias ignored the other man’s protests, and sat him down on the couch anyway. 

“Can I get you anything, water? Tea? Something to eat?”

“Got anything stronger?” Martin asked weakly. 

“Of course. I’ll be back in just a moment.” 

Elias left Martin on the couch to retrieve their drinks. Most of Elias’s home was fairly open, but there was a wall that sectioned the living room off from the kitchen, and while Elias could definitely hear him, he couldn’t see him. Martin took this opportunity to take a few deep breaths and lay against the back of the couch. His head was spinning. Just an hour ago he was having a breakdown in the archives and now he was sat on his boss’s couch awaiting a glass of wine. Of all the odd circumstances he had gotten into at the institute, this was perhaps the most bizarre. 

“Here you go,” Elias said, handing him a glass of rich red wine. Elias swirled it around and inhaled the scent before drinking. Martin followed suit. 

Elias sauntered over to the corner of the room where a record player sat amidst a shelf stacked to the ceiling with records and books. It was so tall that there was a rolling library ladder connected to it. Elias scaled the ladder all the way to the top, looking through a section on records all in assorted muted colors. Martin couldn’t take his eyes off of Elias’s lithe figure. Where had this come from? He had never thought of Elias like this before. 

Elias smirked to himself, almost as if he knew what Martin was thinking. He stepped down from the ladder and placed a record on the turntable. The room filled with soft piano music. Martin couldn’t tell Debussy from Mozart from Chopin, but he knew Für Elise when he heard it. 

Elias let out a contented sigh, his head tipped back and eyes closed, as if the music was water and he had spent days in the desert. He sat down in an armchair across from Martin then, retrieving the wine he had placed on the side table, swirling it around in his cup again.

“This is a 1787 Chateau Margaux. Last I checked these are going for £370,000 a bottle,” Elias said, grinning his toothy, wine stained grin, and crossing his legs primly. Martin almost spit the wine out of his mouth. At nearly £6,000 a sip, this was easily the most expensive thing Martin had ever consumed. 

“And you just have £370,000 wine sitting around?” Martin asked.

“A gracious host must always be prepared for company,” Elias replied, taking another sip of his wine. 

“Even though you just told me you never have company?”

“I said rarely, not never,” Elias corrected. 

They drank in silence for a while, allowing their minds to process the events of the night. With every passing second Elias seemed to relax further while Martin grew more tense with anticipation. The whole thing came to a head when a loud whirring echoed through the room. Martin jumped at the noise, spilling a few droplets of wine on the sofa. 

“That’s just the heat turning on,” Elias said, uncrossing his legs and moving to the edge of his seat to place a calming hand on Martin’s knee, “my goodness you are jumpy tonight.” 

“Elias I’m so sorry,” Martin said, gesturing to the red speckles on the white fabric, “I’ll pay to have it cleaned, I promise-” 

“Oh hush,” Elias said. He got to his feet in one fluid motion, then tipped the rest of his wine out onto the white shag rug. Martin’s mouth hung open. “Objects can be replaced Martin. Come, let's get you to bed.” 

Elias led a still stunned Martin into his bedroom. It was nearly the size of the whole rest of the apartment with large windows that gave a perfect view of the London Eye, which cast a blue haze on the city around it. In the center of the room was the most massive bed Martin had ever seen, piled high with pillows. 

“The duvet is Egyptian cotton, the sheets are silk and the pillows are stuffed with goose feathers. Needless to say you should sleep well tonight.” Elias set a pair of navy and gold silk pajamas on the bed for Martin to wear. Then he placed a hand on Martin’s shoulder. It felt like a jolt of electricity made its way down Martin’s spine. Suddenly his mind was full of erotic images of Elias.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” 

“Wait,” Martin said before Elias could leave, “you’re going to sleep on the couch?”

“Well of course, you’re my guest Martin. And, I have some work to do. I don’t imagine I would be sleeping even if you weren’t here.” Martin took a deep breath, summoning as much courage as he could muster. Maybe it was the wine, or the way Elias had touched him, but Martin’s entire body was coursing with heat and lust now. 

“This bed, it’s big enough to fit the entire staff of the archives, surely we could share.” His face went bright red as he waited for a response, but he stood his ground.

“If that’s what you want,” Elias said with a smile. “Shall I give you a moment to change?”

“No,” Martin replied, though his voice wavered.

“No?” 

“No,” He repeated, “because you’re going to take my clothes off of me.” 

“Your wish is my command,” Elias replied, not missing a beat. It was almost as if he knew what Martin was going to ask. 

Elias took a few steps towards Martin until they were nearly chest to chest. He slipped his hands under the hem of Martin’s jumper and button up, feeling his way up the younger man’s plush torso. Martin’s eyes slipped closed at the touch, and he took Elias’s sharp jaw in his cupped hands. 

“Can I?” he asked, dragging a thumb over Elias’s lips. 

“Yes,” Elias whispered. And then they were kissing. Martin let out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he had been holding in. He had been so lonely for so long. No family, no friends outside of the institute. He spent his days pining away after Jon, who would never reciprocate his feelings. Perhaps that’s why Elias chose him, because if something happened to him like something had happened to Sasha, there would be no one to miss him, no one to mourn him, no one to report his disappearance. That caused his gut to twist.

“Where are your thoughts darling?” Elias asked, tenderly brushing his auburn bangs out of his eyes. “You seem distracted. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want it.” 

Despite Elias’s words that were supposed to be soothing, Martin felt oddly compelled to continue, although he was exhausted and quite fragile emotionally.

“I want you,” was all Martin replied.

“Then you shall have me.” Elias stepped back for just a moment to pull Martin’s jumper over his head. His shirt lifted a bit with it, exposing a strip of pale flesh just above the waist of his pants. Elias’s hands went to that space as soon as he had dropped the jumper. He grabbed Martin’s hips and backed him up against the bed, until the backs of his knees knocked against the mattress. Then Elias pushed him to sit on the bed. 

Martin, whose face was now level with Elias’s chest, slipped his hands over his gold corset, admiring the intricate details of the translucent lace that was stretched thin between the boning. He ran a finger up the hooks on the front and looked up at Elias with questioning eyes, silently asking to take it off. 

Without saying anything, Elias reached behind himself to loosen the ribbons of the corset enough for Martin to unhook it. Martin had never hooked or unhooked a corset before, so it took him a few moments to do so. Elias chuckled to himself, but allowed the other man to struggle rather than helping him. 

When the corset was finally undone, Martin pulled it out from the hem of Elias’s pants and threw it to the side, then took Elias by the hips and pulled him into his lap, catching his lips in another searing kiss. 

Elias kissed back and guided Martin’s hands to his back to unbutton Elias’s blouse. He popped the buttons open one at a time, feeling down the notches of Elias’s spine as he did. After he was free from the constraints of his shirt, he pushed Martin onto his back, straddling his waist. He then began to unbutton Martin’s shirt, making much quicker work of it. 

Martin’s trousers and pants were the next to go. Elias pulled them down in one fluid motion until they were around his ankles. Martin did the rest, kicking them, as well as his mismatched socks, off. 

Martin was already half hard, his cock standing to attention, ready for Elias to use in any way he saw fit. Elias studied it for a moment, not touching, just looking. 

“What do you want Martin? I am very versatile.” It took Martin a moment to realize what Elias was asking, but when he did, his face heated up. 

“Oh! Uh, well I guess I would prefer to bottom.” 

“Brilliant.” Elias stepped back for just a moment to pull his trousers and pants off. He was pretty good looking, even down there. Certainly not the biggest Martin had ever had, but he wasn’t small either. 

Elias got back on the bed, straddling Martin’s waist again and leaning in for another kiss. After a moment he broke away to kiss down Martin’s jaw and neck. 

“How do you want it?” Elias asked, grazing his teeth over Martin’s earlobes. “On your hands and knees? On your back? On top of me?” 

A shiver made its way down Martin’s spine as Elias whispered to him. He gripped the other man’s shoulders and pulled him closer. 

“Just like this, please Elias, just like this,” he begged. Elias chuckled, sending a breath of hot air over the shell of Martin’s ear. 

“So eager for me tonight.” He moved down Martin’s body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. He stopped momentarily to take some of the soft flesh around Martin’s belly into his mouth. He nibbled and sucked until a big purple bruise blossomed. 

He made his way down to Martin’s thighs next, giving them a similar treatment, and purposefully neglecting his leaking cock. Martin was shaking by now, wanting so badly for Elias to touch his cock. Elias, however, would not stop until Martin’s freckled thighs were covered in hickeys and bite marks. 

Once he was satisfied with his work, he moved up until hace was level with Martin’s crotch. He dipped his mouth down to suck on Martin’s balls. Martin moaned aloud, clenching his thighs around Elias’s head. If Elias minded, he didn’t say anything. Instead he simply dropped his head lower to lick a stripe over Martin’s hole. 

Martin let out a shuddering gasp, one hand flying down to tangle in Elias’s hair. He ran his hands through it as Elias continued to suck and lick his entrance. Elias’s hair was short and straight as a stick. Not at all like Jon’s. Jon’s hair was long and wavy. It would be tangled, but soft, and Martin would be able to grab two big handfuls of it. Elias’s hair was barely long enough to tug on. Even with his eyes closed he couldn’t pretend he was Jon. 

Martin was pulled out of his thoughts when the first finger breached him. It was gentle and well lubricated, but burned regardless. It always does at first. 

“Is this alright?” Elias asked, stilling to allow Martin to grow accustomed to the intrusion. 

“Y-yeah,” Martin panted, “I’m ready for more.” Elias flashed that toothy grin that was blinding and unsettling all at once. He pushed another finger inside, using them to scissor him open. 

“Oh fuck,” Martin cried as Elias’s fingers brushed his prostate, “Elias, I can’t wait any longer. I want you in me.” 

“Patience Martin, I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it. I promise,” Martin insisted. 

“Very well.” Elias sat up to retrieve a condom from his nightstand. Martin thought for a brief moment, that it was a good thing the condoms were in that nightstand, as the bed was so big, that Elias would have to get up and walk to the other side to retrieve one if it was in the other nightstand. 

Elias settled back between Martin’s thighs, then tore the package open with his teeth, then pulled the condom out, rolling it onto his length. He then grabbed Martin's hips and pushed in painstakingly slowly. 

Martin hissed a little at the sting. He would get used to it, but he probably should have let Elias prepare him better.

He completely forgot the pain when Elias’s cock brushed up against his prostate. He grabbed Elias’s shoulders, pulling him down until they were chest to chest, and hooked his ankles around Elias’s thighs. Elias kissed his neck gently at first, then rougher, sucking and biting like he had done to his thighs. 

With every thrust, a new thought of Jon popped into Martin’s head, almost as if someone was placing the images there. Like there was someone going through Martin's memories and selecting the ones that would hurt him the most. Jon’s smile back before he stopped smiling. His messy hair and rumpled clothes. His voice when he recorded statements. 

Martin let his eyes slip closed and images of Jon to flood his mind. If he didn’t look at him,and he didn’t touch his hair, he could pretend that Elias was Jon. Elias was skinny like Jon, not quite as scrawny, but certainly smaller than Martin. He rubbed his hands over Elias’s jutting shoulder blades, imagining that they belonged to him. 

His brain conjured up a new image then. Jon, hovering over Martin, hair hanging down and brushing against his face. He was thrusting in and out of Martin, never breaking eye contact, and chanting “I love you” over and over again, mixed with other praise about how gorgeous and sexy Martin was. 

Elias, to his credit, kept quiet aside from some breathy moans and pants. It was like he knew that Martin was fantasizing about someone else, and he wanted to indulge him. But he couldn’t possibly know, could he?

“Martin, I’m close,” Elias rasped out finally. And just like that, the illusion was broken. This was Elias, not Jon. It would never be Jon. A few tears escaped Martin’s eyes. The vision of Jon was so vivid, that for a second he had convinced himself that he was with Jon.

“Me too,” was all Martin replied. And it was true. Thinking of Jon had brought him to the edge, head swimming in the waves of pleasure that rolled off of him. 

They didn’t come at the same time. That sort of cliche only exists in erotica. No, Martin came first with a cry, biting his lip to keep Jon’s name from slipping out. Elias came a moment later, spilling into the condom. 

After catching his breath for a moment, Elias sat up, slipping out of Martin, and pulled off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the rubbish bin next to his bed. He turned back to Martin then, his face falling at the sight of Martin’s tear streaked face.

“Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?” Elias asked, wiping his tears with one hand and brushing his curls away from his face. 

“No, you didn’t hurt me Elias, I promise,” he replied.

“You can tell me what’s wrong,” Elias said. He moved to lay down on his side, still facing Martin. Guilt creeped into Martin then. Guilt over sleeping with his boss, guilt for thinking of Jon like that, guilt for thinking of someone else while he was with Elias. 

“I’ve just been so overwhelmed-” Martin let out another sob “-god, crying after sex. I’m sure you find this very sexy.”

“Hey.” Elias turned Martin’s head to face him. “It’s normal to cry. I’m not going to shame you okay? I had a great time tonight and that is plenty enough.” 

“Thank you Elias.” 

“Let’s go to sleep, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Martin agreed. 

They didn’t cuddle, neither one particularly wanting to be touched. Elias’s bed was big enough for them to sleep comfortably without even touching. Despite the turmoil in his head, Martin fell asleep quickly. He couldn’t help it. The duvet was so warm, and the pillows were so comfortable, and he was exhausted. 

He drifted off that night, thinking about Jon, just like he did most nights. God, he needed help.

**Author's Note:**

> While writing this I learned that American keyboards have a # where British keyboards have the £ key, so I had to copy paste it, and convert all of the money into pounds. 
> 
> Also why do £1 and £2 come in coins? The ratio of pence to pound is the same as cents to dollars, so shouldn't you start using bills (I think you guys call them notes) at £1? Idk, British money confuses me.


End file.
